Today, I offer a piece of flash creative nonfiction.
I Will Not Let You Go Unless You Bless Me
I’ve been managing, just. With planning and budgeting of time and energy, I have made it through the last five days of doing the work of three people. I send a text to Diane to tell her which hospital to start at the next day. She texts back right away.
Am driving back from Virginia tomorrow. Won’t be seeing patients until Friday.
This is Wednesday night. I don’t have any energy left, and I have another day of triple duty. I close the door to my office, something I rarely do. I turn off the lights. I push back the computer keyboard so I can put my head down on the Staples calendar.
And I sob, loudly. I know the only other people in the office are way up at the front desk, so no one will hear me. Ten minutes later, the crying ends, as it always does, eventually. I print out the lists of patients in the two hospitals. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to push way beyond my limits of endurance.
I decide which patients need to be seen, which ones can be safely skipped for a day, the same game I’ve been playing for five days, but something is different this time. Later, I will look back and know that in these six brutal days, I have been wrestling with an angel; he has touched the hollow of my hip. Blessing can come out of injury.
This is so moving.
Thanks, Donna!